Jonson, Ben · published 1640 · first performed or written 1633 [licensed for stage, May 7] (Annals) comedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men T30 Constables, justices and the watch typicality 0.71 · 546 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T30: constable, squire, tub, clay, worship, justice, turf, mr, hun, valentine.
The careful Constable, here drooping comes, In his deluded search, of Captain Thums. Puppy brings word, his Daughter's run away. With the tall Servingman. He frights Groom Clay, Out of his wits. Returneth than the Squire, Mocks all their pains, and gives Fame out a Liar: For falsely charging Clay, when 'twas the plot, Of subtle Bramble, who had Audrey got, Into his hand, by this winding device. The Father makes a rescue in a trice: And with his Daughter, like Saint George on foot, Comes home triumphing, to his dear Hart root. And tell's the Lady Tub, whom he meets there, Of her son's courtesies, the Bachelor. Whose words had made 'em fall the Hue and Cry. When Captain Thum's coming to ask him, why He had so done? He cannot yield him cause: But so he runs his neck into the Laws. The Laws, who have a noose to crack his neck, As Justice Bramble tells him, who doth peck A hundreth pound out of his purse, that comes Like his teeth from him, unto Captain Thums. Thum's is the Vicar in a false disguise: And employs Metaphor, to fetch this prize. Who tells the secret unto Basket-Hilts, For fear of beating. This the Squire quilts Within his Cap; and bids him but purloin The wench for him: they two shall share the coin. Which the sage Lady in her 'foresaid Gown Breaks of, returning unto Kentishtowne, To seek her Wisp; taking the Squire along, Who finds Clay Iohn, as hidden in straw throng. O, how am I beholden to the Inventor, That would not, on record against me enter! My slackness here, to enter in the barn, Well In-and-In, I see thou canst discern! On with your last, and come to a Conclusion. The last is known, and needs but small infusion Into your memories, by leaving in These Figures as you sit. I, In-and-In, Present you with the show: First of a Lady Tub, and her son, of whom this Masque here, made I. Than Bridegroom Pol, and Mistress Pol the Bride: With the sub-couple, who sit them beside. That only verse, I altered for the better, 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 gratid. Than Justice Bramble, with Sir Hugh the Cannon: And the Bride's Parents, which I will not stan'on, Or the lost Clay, with the recovered Giles: Who thus unto his Master, him ' conciles, On the Squire's word, to pay old Turf his Club, And so doth end our Tale, here, of a Tub. THis Tale of me, the Tub of Totten-Court, A Poet, first invented for your sport. Wherein the fortune of most empty Tubs Rolling in love, are shown; and with what rubs, W''re commonly encountered: When the wit Of the whole Hundred so opposeth it. Our petty Chanon's forked plot in chief, Sly justice arts, with the High Constables Brief, And brag Commands; my Lady Mother's care; And her Pol-martens fortune; with the rare Fate of poor Iohn, thus tumbled in the Cask; Got In-and-In, to gi't you in a Masque: That you be pleased, who come to see a Play, With those that hear, and mark not what we say. Wherein the Poet's fortune is, I fear, Still to be early up, but ne'er the near.
seed 43: T36 · seed 44: T35 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
The carefull Conſtable, here drooping comes, In his deluded ſearch, of Captaine Thum's. Puppy brings word, his Daughter's run away. With the tall Serving-man. He frights Groome Clay, Out of his wits. Returneth then the Squire, Mocks all their paines, and gives Fame out a Lyar: For falſely charging Clay, when 'twas the plot, Of ſubtile Bramble, who had Awdrey got, Into his hand, by this winding device. The Father makes a reskue in a trice: And with his Daughter, like Saint George on foot, Comes home triumphing, to his deare Hart root. And tell's the Lady Tub, whom he meets there, Of her ſonnes courteſies, the Batchelor. Whoſe words had made 'hem fall the Huy and Cry. When Captaine Thum's comming to aske him, why He had ſo done? He cannot yeeld him cauſe: But ſo he runs his neck into the Lawes. The Lawes, who have a nooſe to crack his neck, As Juſtice Bramble tels him, who doth peck A hundreth pound out of his purſe, that comes Like his teeth from him, unto Captaine Thum's. Thum's is the Vicar in a falſe diſguiſe: And employes Metaphore, to fetch this prize. Who tels the ſecret unto Basket-Hilts, For feare of beating. This the Squire quilts Within his Cap; and bids him but purloine The wench for him: they two ſhall ſhare the coine. Which the ſage Lady in her 'foreſaid Gowne Breaks off, returning unto Kentiſh-Towne, To ſeeke her Wiſpe; taking the Squire along, Who finds Clay Iohn, as hidden in ſtraw throng. O, how am I beholden to the Inventer, That would not, on record againſt me enter! My ſlackneſſe here, to enter in the barne, Well In-and-In, I ſee thou canſt diſcerne! On with your laſt, and come to a Concluſion. The laſt is knowne, and needs but ſmall infuſion Into your memories, by leaving in Theſe Figures as you ſit. I, In-and-In, Preſent you with the ſhow: Firſt of a Lady Tub, and her ſonne, of whom this Maſque here, made I. Then Bride-groome Pol, and Miſtris Pol the Bride: With the ſub-couple, who ſit them beſide. That onely verſe, I alter'd for the better, gratid. Then Juſtice Bramble, with Sir Hugh the Chanon: And the Bride's Parents, which I will not ſtan'on, Or the loſt Clay, with the recovered Giles: Who thus unto his Maſter, him 'conciles, On the Squires word, to pay old Turfe his Club, And ſo doth end our Tale, here, of a Tub. THis Tale of mee, the Tub of Totten-Court, A Poet, firſt invented for your ſport. Wherein the fortune of moſt empty Tubs Rowling in love, are ſhewne; and with what rubs, W'are commonly encountred: When the wit Of the whole Hundred ſo oppoſeth it. Our petty Chanon's forked plot in chiefe, Slie Iuſtice arts, with the High Conſtables Briefe, And brag Commands; my Lady Mothers care; And her Pol-martens fortune; with the rare Fate of poore Iohn, thus tumbled in the Caske; Got In-and-In, to gi't you in a Maſque: That you be pleas'd, who come to ſee a Play, With thoſe that heare, and marke not what wee ſay. Wherein the Poets fortune is, I feare, Still to be early up, but nere the neare.